when suddenly it all starts to make sense
by ponderer
Summary: Her eyes flicker in acknowledgement because she so obviously knows, knows way too much and he flinches slightly under her gaze. "Pawnee will miss you, Ben," she says. Leslie/Ben


**Title: **when suddenly it all starts to make sense  
**Author: **ponderer  
**Spoilers: **Harvest Festival  
**Disclaimer: **I want for nothing. Title taken from "All Kinds of Time" by Fountains of Wayne.  
**Summary: **Her eyes flicker in acknowledgement because she so obviously knows, knows way too much and he flinches slightly under her gaze. "Pawnee will miss you, Ben," she says.  
**Author's Note: **So this is my first "Parks and Rec" story. Hopefully not my last. I love the show and the characters and just wanted to show my support for it's fabulous-ness. Let me know what you love/hate about it in a review! Thanks for reading!

:::

It starts like this.

She's on duty with April at the games, handing out softballs to patrons. April's been happier lately, less abrasive, which she loves anyway, but it's still nice to have another girlfriend. Except this girlfriend is happily in a relationship. (She'd heard through the grapevine after losing L'il Sebastian that April and Andy had exchanged their love in words from Tom, trying to save a talking to for being irresponsible.)

And she has single Ann back, but single Ann isn't that familiar because it was first Andy, then Mark, and then Chris and really, she's never been single Ann since she's known her. She's worried that she won't like her as well, she'll be changed or something, but Ann is sweet and beautiful and Ann. So, she'll be fine.

But as she looks over at April who's watching Andy by the ferris wheel, she feels something in her stomach that she's become familiar with throughout her adult life. She'd been able to swallow it mostly, but lately it's become almost nagging. Expressing something she hadn't been able to say or act on.

Her eyes move to the candy apple and cotton candy stand and there it is, that feeling becomes intensified.

:::

Harvest Festival is under way, day three. It's been practically sold out if there had been a limit, and there's been no rough spots (besides prior to opening). Except for when Jerry accidentally left trash out and Pawnee's finest rodents and other furry creatures dug in to leftovers from day one. But otherwise, it's been going fine.

Surprisingly fine.

He shouldn't be worried, not with her in charge. Everyone around them has blind faith in her and everything she does and is and he's finding himself in the same boat. Truthfully, he's never been nervous about the festival. In all honesty, he's never been more comfortable.

Especially throughout the media blitz that happened, he feared that maybe things would be better without him involved. That he should just cut his losses and stick with what he's being paid to do. Chris has already left, gone back to work in Indianapolis leaving a distraught Ann and sympathizing Leslie…

He looks up and over the crowd near the candy apple stand where he'd been talking to a family in line about the festival's corn maze when he catches her eye near the games. He smiles and does a nod in her direction. She beams, almost comically in surprise, then gestures for him to come over.

He politely excuses himself, which is a huge step since talking with Perd on his TV show previously, and moves towards her. The crowd is eager to take everything in and there is a mixture of sweet conversation. "Take me to the merry go round, Daddy!" "I need to try more of that fudge!" "We'll need to remember not to eat immediately after going on that ride."

If possible, her smile is bigger when he approaches. But he notices that this particular smile isn't entirely directed at him. Instead, she's watching a line form down the way for L'il Sebastian where Donna is taking host on a stool next to the gate.

"You've done so much Leslie, it's really just incredible," he tells her, leaning his forearms on the bar. She looks down at him, wearing her Staff t-shirt and jeans, the most casual he's ever seen her, and he thinks it looks amazing. He doesn't want to bring anything else up to break that smile, but he does need to discuss something with her. About after the festival and what will happen. But her grin stops him in place.

Her eyes flicker in acknowledgement because she so obviously knows, knows way too much and he flinches slightly under her gaze. "Pawnee will miss you, Ben," she says. It's an odd statement because although he's fairly sure some of the staff will miss him, the town may not for firing so many others. But he appreciates the gesture all the same. "I'll miss you."

It's soft and honest and he's only 40 percent sure he heard her right. He looks away, then down at his tennis shoes. He doesn't want to see that look in her eyes telling him, begging him, to say something to make her take it back.

But he can't. He doesn't.

:::

It's not until she's back in her house later that night that everything sinks in. What she said. What he hadn't said. What should have been said.

The loss was greater than the gain, as it always appeared to be.

She was tired of loss. First it was Dave and she lost him to California. Then it was Mark, to her own stupidity, then to Ann, then to another job. Now Ben?

She needed sleep, which was an odd thought because she almost never slept. Not unless falling asleep in the midst of something else. Which had happened on numerous occasions, but always unintentional. But this? She really thought sleep would solve this whole issue. Or, at least take her from the hurting feeling of him leaving away for a few hours.

She undresses quickly, leaving her Staff shirt in the chair by her bed, pulling on her simple nightgown then climbing into bed. It's musky in her dark bedroom, never turning on the light so her eyes adjusted quickly. She sees the light coming through the shades she hasn't bothered closing and hear the owls hooting in the trees behind her house and the way the house is just quiet enough to rock her to sleep.

And she does sleep for awhile until her phone vibrates beside her, knocking into her glass of water and making the sound louder. She jumps into worker's mode without checking caller ID.

"What's the problem?"

"Did I wake you?" It's Ben and he's really quiet, thinking she'll fall back asleep quickly but she knows better. She'll never sleep now that her illusion is broken.

"It's fine."

It's quiet for a beat, then three. She listens to his breathing, counting the breaths in the silence. She figures she could get used to this, not being near him but feeling him by how his breathing speeds and slows as his brain moves in numbers.

"I just wanted to say goodnight."

It's so simple it makes her hurt more. "Goodnight Ben."

But she doesn't hang up and neither does he. "I also wanted to say, well, I asked for another extension. I explained to Chris that I thought maybe I should stay for awhile longer…"

"You know that's not necessary," she tells him. She knows he's stalling and she appreciates it. But in the end, he'll still be leaving and she'll still be here and the distance will be their comfort until that ceases to exist too.

"I'm going to miss you," he says finally. It's a false hope, a final testimonial of truth, but really, it's the most powerful thing he's ever said to her. She's afraid to say something else to ruin it, mostly for herself. She wants to hang up but he has her under a spell now and she's talking before she can stop herself.

"Do you want some waffles?" He chokes a laugh and agrees. He'll be over in five minutes.

:::

It only takes him two because he had already been in his rental car driving around (towards her house without recognizing it, but he was at the same time). He turned the lights off and shut the car down but stayed seated. The porch light was on already but the rest of the house was dark. He'd been there two times before, for work related purposes, but never this late or for such a personal conversation that was bound to happen.

Quite simply, he was nervous. And scared. But mostly excited.

But really scared.

He got out of the car and shut the door quietly, smoothing his hands over his basketball shorts. Uncomfortably putting his right hand in his pocket of his sweatshirt, he looks up as she answers the door in a simple cotton nightgown. It's dorky and well worn, but he thinks it's perfect. She pushes the screen door open with one arm, letting him inside the living room. He takes in the smells of the batter he can smell on her hands (she's a messy chef, something he's learned in the course of their friendship) and he smiles as he inhales. She doesn't shut the interior door and he's glad because the air is cooling down and the breeze through the screen feels like a breath of fresh air to keep him sane.

"I wasn't sure if you'd want coffee, but I can make some if you'd like." She's nervous, he can tell, the way she's not meeting his eye and already moving into the kitchen. He follows behind her, hypnotized by the way the cotton moves against the back of her bare legs. It's intimate, he finds, when he leans back against the counter and watches as she mixes the large glass bowl of batter, blowing her hair from her eyes. Without hesitation, he reaches out and tucks it behind her ear and she stops mixing for a moment to take a deep breath. He falls back to rest against the counter again and that's when she meets his eye. It's thankful, the way she looks, but still nervous. He's glad he's not the only one.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asks, needing his hands to be busy pronto before he touches her again (especially with her arms bare and her legs and her face that has a spot of flour on her cheek).

She nods, glad to keep him busy too. "Yeah, can you grab the waffle maker? It's in the cupboard behind you." She motions with her head to show which one and he turns around quickly, making a face at himself before making himself look for the waffle maker. He finds it fast as it's right up front but he laughs when he finds a stack of magazines behind it. He reaches in and grabs the first few. She hears his laugh and blushes when she notices what he found. "I must have stashed there at the dinner party."

"What dinner party?" he laughs, ruffling through the pages of the New Yorker.

She looks thoughtful as if she's unsure to tell him. "It was before you came to work in Pawnee. I was dating this guy, Ann's friend actually, she's the one that introduced us, and I wanted to impress him so I had this whole dinner put together but my house was a mess and I wasn't prepared for the huge meal that Ron was promised and so I used my job to get the local teachers to help me when their jobs were in jeopardy." It comes out all fast, but he's used to the speed. She was trying to hide the first part by adding everything else and he doesn't want to call her out on it, but it's the second time he's heard about her dating someone else and he doesn't like the feeling he gets in his gut about it.

"You sure went to a lot of trouble for the guy then," he comments. He tries to swallow the hurt and hide it from his face but he can see that she knows. Because it's her and she always knows.

"Yeah, but he was a story guy. He went from place to place and collected stories and adventures to tell. I didn't like that," she explains. But that hurts too because that's his job, his life, to move from place to place. Never settle in one place.

"But, you know, he was kind of a jerk too," she adds and he can really smell the batter now because she's close to him, almost pressed against his arm and he can feel the heat of her bare skin through his sweatshirt and she's almost pleading for him to say something, anything, to forgive her words.

"Another jerk, eh?"

She laughs but the moment is still awkward. He can see the wheels turning in her head to fix it but that's what she does and who she is and he needs to grow a pair and say something first. "Have I met him?"

She shakes her head, her hair falling back into her face. It takes a beat for him to reach out and tuck it again and he lets his hand graze her cheek before dropping it to his side. "He's long gone now."

She's smiling again, the best kind of smile and it's like everything is okay. He hopes.

:::

When the waffles are done, she insists they sit on the kitchen floor. He doesn't fight it and she's glad because sitting on the kitchen floor is most possibly her favorite place to relax and yes, it's a bit weird but it's hers. He has a drop of syrup on his chin and he doesn't notice and with a giggle, she leans forward and kisses it like it's the most natural thing in the world to do.

She pulls back, shocked. His eyes are closed and she's unsure if that's a bad sign or not. She opens her mouth to speak, to apologize, anything at all, but he's dropped his plate to the floor, waffles forgotten, his warm sticky hand behind her neck and now his mouth is on hers.

It's soft and sweet (from the syrup) and kind of sticky, but she doesn't mind because he just made a small sound from his chest and it changes the moment from silly and nice to something more. She sits up on her knees and he turns his body a bit and then she's in his lap, her nightgown hitched up slightly so his warm hands are on her knees. Her own hands, she notices with a cringe, are in his hair, clenching and unclenching in her fingers. But he doesn't seem to mind he'll be washing flour and sugar off later on, so she continues to let him kiss her.

She should be breathing, a normality, but she can't seem to pull away to break from the moment, especially because the cameras aren't there and this isn't some work ploy, it's just Leslie and Ben and really, one of Leslie's best projects thus far.

She just hopes that Ben feels the same way.

:::

So Ben's pretty sure this is the best thing to happen to him since being elected as Boy Mayor, but he doesn't let that detour his thinking beyond that. For there is a Leslie Knope in his lap, massaging his scalp with her short nails, pressing her lips firmly against his, and her tongue is wrestling with his. It's an aggressive kiss, one that was probably meant as a short thing when he felt syrup on his face, but changed quickly to something more.

He should be a gentleman and pull away because this is moving fast and they still really haven't talked about them and the impending situation of him moving back to Indianapolis. But then she kind of tilts her body in a way where their lower halves are hitting in the best spot and he gasps.

"Was that okay?" she whispers against his mouth. He opens his eyes and see that she's nervous, her breathing fast and her heart racing.

"No, no, it's great," he pants back and she smiles, her nerves gone. She leans in to kiss him again and he really wants to let her continue but that moment breaks it for him. "Wait, Leslie…" he says and feels her pull back enough so he can see her whole face.

"Ben…" she starts and he can already tell she's going to try and back out of this and he doesn't want that at all so instead, he cups her face and kisses her softly. Leaning his forehead on hers, he speaks.

"Look, I don't want to pressure you. At all. And I know I can't ask you to ask me to stay. You're above and beyond that. But I do know that I like you. A lot. And that if I could, I'd stay here just for the possibility of an us, even if you didn't feel the same way. Because just being near a person like you makes me want to be a better person. And I am, because of you."

She doesn't seem to have an expression either way and his stomach is in knots and he might throw up. In all honesty, even if she turns him down, he's waiting for her to fix this, salvage his poor heart the only way she can.

They have a staring match for what seems like four whole minutes where their hearts slow and their breathing returns to normal. But he can't take the weird silence anymore and is about to say something when she rushes forward and clenches her arms around his neck in a vice grip and hugs him. He's surprised at her sudden movement and really has no choice but to reciprocate. She relaxes when he puts his arms around her, one moving up and down her back in a soothing manner.

He hears a low hum and can't quite make it out, but then he feels it's coming from her. "What?" he asks.

She clears her throat and answers, "You were already a good person Ben, that's why I like you so much. And why I can't ask you stay because you're good at your job. But if you want to stay, stay."

He's smiling and he can feel her smiling against his neck and when he reaches down, her lips have already gone and reached up for his.

:::

**AN: **Tell me about the best hug you've ever received.


End file.
